Just A Young Heart
by ohwonders
Summary: For a moment he considered telling her everything, this girl with the big hair and bright red notebook and friendly, bossy nature; telling her about the days he's gone without food and the sleepless nights spent trying to stay on top of it all, the diets and the exercise regimes and the endless feeling of never being tall enough, happy enough, thin enough, smart enough.


_If you recognise it, it's not mine._

* * *

It was Chloe who explained it all to him, way back in the beginning. She'd approached him so carefully that first time when they were eight, nearly nine, and stood looking down on him- she had her first growth spurt long before he did, but when he finally started he overtook her within months- until she said, at last, "Well, aren't you going to say something?" and Adrien blinked and said, "Hello?" and she stared at him for a few seconds before bursting into tears and running away.

"Wait!" he'd called, sprinting after her, terrified he was going to lose his first friend before he had even been properly introduced. "Miss, wait!"

She came back at that, wiping tears off her pretty face and giving him a strangely appraising look. "Why did you call me that?" she asked.

"I don't know your name," Adrien said. "And that's what you're supposed to call beautiful ladies who you don't know." The look she was giving him now was different; a mixture of curiosity and delight. In the years to come, he'd see that same look come across her face several times, normally when she was given some task or other: a party to prepare for, a puppy to train.

"My name is Chloe Bourgeois," she said firmly, holding out a hand. "And you're going to be my new best friend."

"A pleasure, Miss," Adrien said. He took her hand and kissed it like he'd seen his father do before, and Chloe giggled, and that was when Adrien learned that charm and flattery will get you anywhere.

He asked her why she ran away from him at first a few days later, while she was doing something to his hair that included something green and sparkly. She didn't answer at first,, and then she said, "Promise not to laugh."

"Promise," Adrien said obediently.

"I thought you might be my soulmate," Chloe blurted in a rush, and then tugged so hard on his hair that he saw stars for a second.

"Your what?" he asked, eyes watering slightly.

This time Chloe let go of his hair altogether, and it flopped down over his eyes in a cloud of green glitter. "Do you really not know?" she asked, taking hold of the back of his seat and turning it to face her. "How can you not know?"

Adrien shrugged and pushed his fringe out of his face. "Do you know?" he asked hopefully.

"Of course," Chloe said immediately. " _Everyone_ knows about soulmates. Honestly." She tugged off her cardigan and pulled the shoulder of her dress to one side. "Look," she said. Adrien looked.

"There's writing!" he exclaimed, peering closer at the dark, looping letters printed across her collarbone. "Did you do that?"

"Of course not, dummy," she said. "Read it."

" _I'm so sorry about last night_ ," he read carefully. "What does that mean?"

Chloe rearranged her dress and took a deep breath. "That is the first thing my soulmate will ever say to me," she said, in a grand sort of way that made Adrien feel even smaller than usual.

"Oh," he said. "What's a soulmate?"

Chloe sighed and said, " _Boys_ ," in a way that meant she was glad to have the chance to explain such an important thing to someone so stupid as to have never heard of it before, and told him.

"So why am I not your soulmate?" Adrien asked, feeling vaguely guilty.

"Because you just said "Hello," when we met, instead of what I've got on my shoulder. That's the only way you can tell that they're your true, true love." She sighed, fixing her gaze on the view from her window. "And mine is still out there somewhere, and yours too, and one day you'll hear them say those words and that'll be it."

"Forever?" Adrien asked, trying to figure out what she was looking at. There was a pigeon perched on the opposite windowsill, maybe that was it.

"Yes," Chloe said, failing to keep the irritated snap out of her voice. "Like your parents." She didn't bother to mention that her own parents had split up six months ago, mark or no mark.

"My mother's dead," Adrien said quietly. "That's forever too."

Chloe didn't have an answer to that, so she went back to brushing glitter through his hair, and they didn't really talk about it after that.

Eventually, sometime in the spring Adrien turned thirteen, she turned up at his house after she'd finished school one day and said, "For the love of God, Adrien," a phrase she'd picked up off the English maid her father hired to look after her rooms when she was nine, "aren't you going to _tell_ me?"

"What?" He was tired; Chloe was the first person anywhere near his own age he'd spoken to in a fortnight; he'd been doing lessons and modelling all day and he still hadn't had lunch and all his father's assistant said was ' _later,_ Adrien.'

"Everyone knows what everyone else's mark says," Chloe said to him, barging past him into his room and standing in the middle of the carpet. She seemed taller than him again, sharp with social awareness and kitten heels. Her eyes glinted at him. "It's like, _the_ conversation starter. I know everyone else's in my year now- some of them are really dumb, you wouldn't believe it- but you're my oldest friend, and you know mine. Surely I ought to know yours?"

"Um," Adrien said. She tapped her foot impatiently. "I guess?"

"Well?" She waited a few seconds until Adrien shrugged helplessly, holding out his hands in a peace gesture. "What is it?"

"I don't know what mine says," Adrien admitted. "I've never seen it."

"What?" Chloe actually looked speechless, a rare occurrence, and then she snapped out of it. "Well, don't just stand there," she said. "Take off your shirt."

"Chloe-"

"Oh, don't be stupid, Adrien. You modelled swimsuits last summer. It's nothing all of Paris hasn't seen before." That was true, but this was different; it was Adrien standing in his bedroom with his skin exposed and Chloe peering at him like a shark, or maybe a vulture, something which preyed on people's personal secrets. It wasn't the first time he'd felt like that around her, and it wouldn't be the last. "Arms up," she said, circling him in her shiny little heels- definitely a vulture. He stood there like a scarecrow, arms out while she lifted his hair off his neck and squinted at the sides of his ribs. "You're skinny," she commented, and then said, "Shoes and socks, and your trousers," before he could explain that he was already on a diet for the next summer's season.

He didn't argue with her- how could he? He just stood there and let her take him apart and put him back together again, lifting his feet when she asked. Eventually she stepped away, sat on his couch while he dressed again, hasty and stumbling.

"As far as I can tell, you don't have anything," she said. "Unless you've got something- you know. Down there."

Adrien shook his head so hard he dropped his shoes. He could feel his face burning, with shame and embarrassment and a deep, twisting anxiety. "What does that mean?"

"I don't know," Chloe said. "I haven't seen anything like this before." She frowned, and then walked over to his computer.

"What are you doing?" Adrien asked, although there wasn't anything interesting there.

"Googling it." She tapped something into the search engine and hit enter, scrolled through pages for a while, and then said, "Huh."

"What is it?"

"Well," she said, in an overly confident voice that said _I know everything_ and _I know nothing_ all at once, "There's a couple of options. Number one, your soulmate is dead- it says here that people's soulmate marks get fainter and fainter after their soulmates die, the same way their love fades into a memory." She sighed, apparently taken with the idea of it. "I suppose if you never knew your soulmate and they died, you wouldn't have any memories of them to think of," she added.

"Father-" he began, and then broke off, not sure he wanted to continue.

"What?" and then, imperious, commanding: "Tell me."

Adrien shrugged. "Nothing important," he said. His father's wrist had a mark on it too, looping writing circling his pulse, but the letters were a soft dove grey, not the firm black he'd seen on Chloe's shoulder. He'd never thought much of it before. "What's the other option?"

"That you don't have a soulmate. End of."

"Oh." There was a moment's silence.

Chloe was giving him a look like the counsellor he'd been sent to after his mother died. _I'm so sorry_ , her look said, except not quite- it said _I pity you,_ and something else, too- something colder, more calculating. "I won't tell anyone," she said. "Ever. Don't worry."

"Is it- is it a bad thing?" He was starting to feel slightly lost, a swelling sourness rising in the back of his throat.

"We-ell... Not exactly, but it's unusual. It's something people might take advantage of, and we don't want that, do we?" She was repeating words her father and her teachers and the maid from England had told her a thousand times- _don't let yourself be taken advantage of, Chloe, we don't want that, do we-_ but Adrien wasn't to know that, and the words were like a footprint on his mind, fossilised and left behind forever.

"I won't tell," she said again. "Promise."

"Okay," Adrien said.

After that, things were different. He began to pay more attention to other people's marks, noticing that Nathalie had a black curve on her ankle that might be a C or an O, but he never saw enough it to tell which; the butler had _you're handsome when you smile_ at the edge of his receding hairline; even the Gorilla had _can you tell me the way to the Auberge Nicolas Flamel, please_ in English on the back of his neck. Once he got a close enough look at his father's wrist, usually hidden under his uncreased sleeve, to read _Gabriel, like the angel_ written there, and it made him feel impossibly sad, like he'd lost something without noticing, and he didn't try and see it that closely again. He only watched, glimpses snatched month by month over the next few years, as it grew paler and paler on his father's skin.

And then Adrien went to school.

He didn't tell anyone, not even Chloe, and he saw the hurt and shock on her face when he walked into the room. There were others, all of them staring at him, and he stood there, catching glimpses of writing here and there, until someone grabbed his arm. "Sit here, dude."

Adrien jumped and almost fell into the chair before he saw who it was; a tall, skinny boy with glasses, saying "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. My name's Nino." He reached out for a handshake, and Adrien saw he had _perhaps it would work if you tried this one_ in bold, thick letters across his forearm. Nino caught him staring and laughed. "Yeah, I've given up hiding it," he said. "At least it doesn't have swearing in it, huh?"

" _Adrien,"_ Chloe hissed from across the room, " _what are you doing here?"_

"I'm at school," Adrien said, and she gave him a _no shit Sherlock_ look and half-opened her mouth to say something before the teacher walked in, clapped her hands three times, and everyone shut up surprisingly fast. He stood up when she said his name in the register and everyone laughed and he saw Chloe rolling her eyes, but that was fine because he was actually _there_ , this was actually happening.

"No Marinette?" Madame Bustier said, and the girl sitting behind Adrien raised her hand.

"She's in the hospital again," she said quietly, delivering the message like it was the last thing she wanted to do.

"I see," the teacher said. "Well, let her know we're thinking of her, Alya."

"Who's Marinette?" Adrien asked Nino when they got let out of class for recess.

"Alya's best friend," Nino said. "A lot of our class were in her class last year- well, until-"

"Adrien!" a voice trilled behind them, and Chloe grabbed his elbow and pulled him away. "You're sitting with me," she told him. "Sabrina, go somewhere else. I need to talk to him in private." Sabrina- a shy-looking girl with _I think they suit you_ traced along her jawline- giggled and walked away, leaving Chloe to half-lead, half-drag Adrien over to a table in the courtyard.

"This is so cool," Adrien said, looking at the crowd of people splitting into little groups, clustering around tables in groups of friends.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Chloe hissed.

"I didn't get a chance," Adrien said, bemused. "I asked my dad about it last night. I didn't expect him to say yes." He paused, taking in the look on her face- that same eight-year-old look of curiosity and delight, but colder, harder, more calculated. "I'm sorry?"

"It's not a problem, Adrien," she said. "But you really should have told me, you know? We could have made plans."

"Plans?" Briefly, Adrien wondered if she meant study sessions, and then she leaned forwards and took both of his hands in hers. Her rings were cold and sharp against his skin. "What sort of plan?"

"Well," Chloe said, still holding his hands, "we've got to make sure nobody finds out, haven't we?"

"Finds out what?" He tried to pull his hands away, and she gripped tighter. Her rings dug into his fingers. "Chloe-"

"Your soulmate mark," Chloe whispered, as soft and sweet as new snow, and yet it stung like hail. "Or lack thereof. Nobody can know,you already understand that, right? It's... it's something unusual, and sometimes people out here in the real world aren't as kind as they could be about something unusual. You saw how they were when you stood up for the register."

Adrien yanked his hands free, unnerved. The bright, sunny courtyard seemed darker now, the student's chatter just that little bit more malicious, unpredictable. _Don't let yourself be taken advantage of_ _._ He'd always thought that modelling was the real world, the working world full of adults who knew their way around everything. He'd thought that he was part of it already.

"But- what can I do?" he asked, surprised at how small his voice sounded suddenly. "It's not like I can just get a soulmate mark from somewhere, Chloe. What am I supposed to do?"

"Well," Chloe said, "no need to worry. I have everything worked out. It's very simple."

"What is it?"

Chloe told him. "It's the only way," she said, and Adrien nodded. "Come on," she said. "I have to talk to Sabrina."

The red-haired girl was more than happy to move seats, although Nino seemed genuinely disappointed to see Adrien go. "I'm _very_ sorry," Chloe told her in a voice that carried across the class. "If I'd known he was coming today I'd never have sat next to you in the first place, honestly, Sabrina. It's just-" she dropped to a stage whisper, "-soulmates, you know? I have to keep an eye on him." She giggled, taking Adrien's hand again, and tugged him into his new seat while the class dissolved into frantic muttering.

As soon as lunch came, they were surrounded by the rest of their class, and then what seemed like half the school, and Adrien's dreams of having friends his own age suddenly seemed preferable to this crowded, noisy interrogation. "Don't worry," Chloe whispered to him. "It's perfectly normal," and then went back to giggling and telling the assembled group the story of how they met. "We were only eight," she said. "His father had been invited to one of Daddy's dinner parties, and we met the next morning. It was so sweet- he actually apologised for how dull Mr Agreste's conversation must have been! We were so young, we just thought adult conversations were _so_ boring..." She tugged aside the side of her top, flashing a glimpse of _I'm so sorry about last night_ before tugging Adrien closer to her. "And we've been inseparable ever since," she cooed. "It was so awful when your father wouldn't let you come to school, Adrien. I'm so glad you're here now."

 _Awwww_ , said the crowd.

Then Alya stepped forward. "Can I do a quick interview for the school newspaper?" she asked, already holding a notepad and pen.

Chloe sighed. "I don't think Adrien wants to be bothered with any of that sort of nonsense," she frowned. Adrien shook his head.

"No, I'd like to," he said. "I've never been involved in a school newspaper before. What do you want to ask?"

"Well, first of all, I'm curious about what you said to Adrien," Alya said, smiling tautly at Chloe. "Readers will want both sides of the story, you know."

Chloe opened her mouth, but Adrien nudged her in the side. "It was kind of funny, actually," he said. "She used to be so much taller than me, it was ridiculous, so I was actually kind of scared of her the first time we met. And she just comes up to me and stands there for like, two minutes, and I'm there all _oh my god who is this_ and then she just goes, "Well, aren't you going to say something?" and I was so nervous that I literally just blurted out anything without thinking." He smiled, the sweet modelling smile he's been practising since he was seven years old. "She was my first friend," he said, just loud enough for Alya to hear. "And I wouldn't trade her for anything."

"Lovely," Alya said, scribbling faster than seemed humanly possible. "And now, if I could just ask you a few questions, Adrien?"

"Of course," Chloe said. "Shall we go somewhere more private, Adrikins?"

Alya coughed, the polite smile still on her face. "Actually, I was hoping for a private interview," she said. "Just Adrien. After all, you've already had your feature for the month, Chloe, and it's not every day an international celebrity comes to school." She nodded in the direction of the school. "Shall we?"

"Okay," Adrien said. "See you in class, Chloe."

She rose up on her toes and kissed him on the cheek, taking him by surprise; he recovered quickly enough to blow one back to her as Alya led him away.

"Okay," Alya said once they had settled in the empty classroom. "This is incredibly unprofessional, but my best friend is a _huge_ fan of yours, and she's having a really hard time at the moment. Would it be okay to ask for an autograph?" She offered him her notepad, a sad look underneath her glasses.

"Sure," Adrien said immediately. "Is this for Marinette?" _I hope you feel better soon_ , he added, remembering what Alya had said this morning.

Alya blinked in surprise. "Yeah," she said. "It is." She took the pad back with a nod. "Thank you," she said. "You have no idea how much this will mean to her. Now, can you tell me a little about what your schooling has been like so far? I'm assuming you've had tutoring?"

"Yeah," Adrien said. "I got tutored in most normal school subjects, and then I also get extra lessons in Chinese, fencing and piano. Those will continue, but Father says that he'll only call the tutors back if I start slacking in school." He laughed. "No pressure, huh."

"You must have a crazy busy schedule," Alya said. "All that, plus your modelling career? I'm no fashion expert, but it seems like I can't go anywhere without seeing you involved in something or other. What do you do with your free time?"

Adrien shrugged. "I-" he began, and then stopped. "Um."

"Do you... do you have free time?" Alya ventured.

"Sometimes?" Adrien tried. "I mean, I eat and sleep and stuff. Usually that's at home. And piano's more of a hobby, really. I'm hardly a prodigy."

"It must be difficult," Alya said.

"Yeah," Adrien admitted. "It is, sometimes." For a moment he considered telling her everything, this girl with the big hair and bright red notebook and friendly, bossy nature; telling her about the days he's gone without food and the sleepless nights spent trying to stay on top of it all, the diets and the exercise regimes and the endless feeling of never being tall enough, happy enough, thin enough, smart enough. "I'm looking forward to being a normal kid, or at least for some of the time," he said eventually. "Here I don't have a tailor-made schedule or anything, I'm just one of you guys. I get to do normal stuff, like this." He laughed, suddenly self-conscious. "It's kind of exciting."

Alya laughed too. "The guy's been involved in international modelling, but oh no, the school newspaper is something exciting." She glanced at the clock and flipped her notebook closed. "Thanks, Adrien, and thanks again for the autograph. Marinette is going to be so excited, you have no idea."

"No problem," Adrien said.

By the end of the day he had homework and so did Chloe. She suggested that she came round to his house and they went over it together, and he agreed.

"Did you have a good day, Adrien?" Nathalie asked when they got in the car, and then, before he could answer, "You have a photoshoot in fifteen minutes. I'm sure we can drop Miss Bourgeois off on our way."

"Oh," Adrien said. "But I have homework, Nathalie." _Actual homework,_ he wanted to add, _and a friend who'll sit and do it with me._

"You can do it later," Nathalie said sternly. "I didn't have time to show you your revised schedule this morning, but your free time is a lot more limited now, unless you'd be willing to give up your breaks at school."

"No," Adrien said quickly, remembering the groups of friends he'd seen in the courtyard that day. He wanted something like that. "Sorry, Chloe. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Of course," Chloe said. "Make sure your schedule has time for me, Adrikins," she called as they stopped in front of the hotel, and blew him a kiss.

"Something I should know about?" Nathalie asked drily, and Adrien felt himself blushing. She shook her head. "Now, your days will start at six in the morning," she said, holding out her tablet with Adrien's schedule on it. "You'll have fencing classes on Mondays and Thursdays, piano on Wednesdays, Chinese on Fridays, and you can use Tuesday mornings to catch up on anything you need to. These classes will last two hours, after which you will have time to shower and prepare for the rest of the day before leaving for school at ten past eight. You should be back from school by five at the latest, and you will have an hour for homework before dinner at six. You may have some evening photoshoots scheduled, or your father may decide that that time is better used with additional tutoring, depending on how your grades are. Any shoots which may have been carried out during weekdays will now be scheduled for weekends and holidays." She handed Adrien the tablet to have a closer look for himself, preempting his question. "This afternoon's shoot was planned too far in advance to be changed at such short notice, but you will have time for your homework this evening."

"Okay."

It worked, and it was worth it. That's what Adrien kept telling himself, but by the end of the first few weeks, he was flagging. He wasn't used to the sort of constant social interaction that school provided, and while he was pleased to spend time with many of his classmates- Nino had taken it upon himself to teach him about the wonder that was hip-hop music, Alix and Kim had almost started a war over who got him on their basketball team, and he'd been paired with Nathaniel for an art project- a lot of the people he met seemed more focused on his fame or his 'relationship' with Chloe than anything else, and he was getting tired of the constant attention. Chloe, too, was turning out to be more than he could put up with. She insisted on sitting with him in every class they shared, and met him outside the ones they didn't. At breaks, the only chance he got to talk to anyone else was when she left to touch up her makeup, or the times she decided to go out for lunch with Sabrina, and even that was only because he told her his father had forbidden him to leave the school premises until the end of the day. It wasn't that he wasn't enjoying school; simply that for someone who had spent sixteen years with minimal social contact, it was a jarring change.

He didn't have any chance to relax as the term went on- as summer approached, he was bombarded with modelling jobs, and every weekend and evening seemed to be spent at fittings or shoots. Chloe took to turning up at his house unannounced for 'study sessions' which were actually just her sitting in his room and gossiping, regardless of whether he knew the people involved or not. Those nights, he ended up staying up too late trying to finish the homework he'd not managed to get done, falling asleep at his desk and barely waking in time to pack his bags. Several times he lost track of the days, turning up to his Chinese lesson with his piano music or bringing his fencing kit to an early morning photoshoot.

Exhausted was the word that started to come to mind more and more often, but he pushed it away. He couldn't mention it to Chloe; she didn't like to talk about his modelling, although she was always asking when she could come and watch a shoot, and his schedule didn't interest her unless she was involved in it somehow. He certainly couldn't mention it to his father. He could hear it now: _if you can't cope, Adrien, it would be easy to go back to the way it was before_ and he couldn't do that, he couldn't go back to his quiet, lonely life after even just a couple of months of this new world. And so he stayed up and passed his tests and made friends and modelled and hung out with Chloe and did his best. He stole some makeup from one of his shoots to cover the bags under his eyes, got into the habit of hiding food in his room and his bags for the times he didn't have time to eat a proper meal, and he did his best.

He handled it until, simply put, he couldn't.

That week was kind of a trainwreck in general, to be honest; he'd been coming down with something for a while, but it was the first day that he'd actually consider admitting he was ill. He overslept- it was a Tuesday, so he didn't miss anything, but it meant he didn't manage to finish the essay he needed to hand in first thing, even when he skipped breakfast- and ended up barely making it to school in time for the register. By lunch, he could barely focus on what Chloe was saying to him, and it was all he could do to nod along with her. "-and then, she had the gall to _actually_ say- Adrien, are you even listening to me?"

"Yeah," he said after a second, surprised at how hoarse his voice was. "Sorry."

Chloe wrinkled her nose. "You sound awful," she said. "Are you sick?"

Adrien shrugged. "I don't think so," he croaked, and then cleared his throat and tried again. "Nah, I'm good," he said. "Just tired."

"Well, if you are, try not to pass it on to me, okay, babe? Anyway, like I was saying, she actually tried to-"

Adrien tuned her out. His head felt heavy, and the bright sun was hurting his eyes. He looked away, glancing wistfully at the shadier tables to the side of the courtyard. Chloe preferred to sit in the middle, right where everyone could see her, but it seemed like nobody was paying attention to them today. Instead, there was a crowd of people clustered in the far corner. He couldn't quite see who it was, but he could hear voices. Something about it put him on edge, an uneasy chant pulsing through the air. "What's going on over there?" he asked, interrupting Chloe mid-complaint.

"What?" Chloe glanced over as if she hadn't even noticed. "Oh, I don't know," she said, bored. "Sabrina, go find out, will you? So, anyway, after she tried to pull that, there was no way I was inviting her to- Adrien, where are you going?"

"I'm just going to find out what it is," Adrien called back to her. "I'll be back in a minute." Chloe sighed and started to follow him. They were barely halfway there when Sabrina came sprinting back to them, face pink with excitement.

"Oh my god, Chloe, you _have_ to see this!"

"What is it?"

"Someone's soulmark got revealed," Sabrina burst out. "His fringe- it was covering it- Chloe, you are _not going to believe this-_ "

"Who is it?" Chloe asked, clearly interested by the prospect of fresh gossip.

"Nathaniel!"

"Nathaniel?" Adrien echoed.

"Yeah, he's in our art class."

"I know," Adrien said. "He's my portrait partner," _and he's the shyest person I've ever met_ , he added mentally. There was no way he'd be happy about something as personal as a soulmate mark getting revealed, especially if he'd been trying to cover it with his fringe. "Sabrina, what's going on? They're not in our year, are they?"

"Some of them are," Sabrina said. "That's Lee. His family own that chain of fancy wine bars, _Le Vigne."_

They arrived at the crowd and Adrien elbowed his way in, leaving Chloe to sigh and snap _excuse me_ at the others, clearing her own path. Nathaniel was surrounded by several guys Adrien recognised from his gym class. One of them had an arm round his shoulders, the grip too tight to be friendly. Another of them had their phone out, waving it in his face in a way that seemed uncomfortably threatening to Adrien.

"Come on, man," he was saying. "It's not a big deal. Just let me see it again." He reached out to Nathaniel's ruffled hair, and the other boy flinched away. "Jeez, no need to bite," he said. "It's just a photo."

"Leave him alone, Lee," a voice called in the crowd. Adrien glanced round to see Alya standing there, fists clenched. "It's none of your business."

"It's none of your business either," Lee shot back. "Unless you're going to do a report on it?" Alya flushed, and Adrien moved before he could think about it.

"If it's not a big deal, why do you want a photo in the first place?" he asked, using the same voice he'd heard his father use on persistent reporters.

"Adrien-" he heard Chloe hiss behind him. He ignored her.

"Back off," he said sharply. "Like Alya said, it's none of your business. Leave him alone."

 _ooOOOOhhh_ , said the crowd.

"Don't bother, Adrien," Nathaniel muttered.

"Are they bothering you?" Adrien asked.

"It's fine."

"It's not." He stepped forwards, taking Lee and the others enough by surprise to give Nathaniel a chance to dart out from under their grip. He was trembling, Adrien noticed, and something inside him twisted with anger. Alya reached out and caught him by the shoulder before he could make another move.

"Show's over, everyone," she called, and then quietly, into his ear, "Don't be an idiot, Agreste."

Adrien nodded, and let her pull him back. He didn't see where Nathaniel went- didn't even fully understand what happened until Chloe turned up at his house that afternoon and talked his ear off for two hours straight.

"What were you _thinking_?" she demanded. "You don't get involved in other people's drama, Adrien. You just don't."

"That wasn't drama," Adrien said flatly. "That was bullying."

Chloe rolled her eyes. "Of course it wasn't," she said. "Nobody got hurt, did they? It was just a joke."

"Nathaniel didn't seem to find it very funny." He'd been in art with Adrien at the end of the day, but he hadn't said a word, and whenever Adrien tried to catch his eye, he'd looked away. "How exactly was that a joke?"

Chloe sighed. "I suppose I can't expect you to understand," she said, sugar-sweet and condescending. "Soulmarks are something _everyone_ talks about, you know? They're not a big deal."

"Not a big deal, huh?" Adrien said drily, but Chloe seemed to miss the sarcasm.

"Oh my _god_ , Adrien. It's like dating a caveman sometimes, I swear."

"We're not actually dating, Chloe," Adrien said, the words jumping out of his mouth before his slow, exhausted brain could stop them.

Chloe stiffened. "I _know_ ," she said coldly. "If you'd forgotten, this was kind of my idea in the first place?"

"I know," Adrien said, already regretting saying anything, part of him just wanting to get it over with. "It's just... maybe you're getting a little carried away with it."

"What do you mean?" She looked beautiful, Adrien noticed- sharp and cold as steel, as a knife waiting to fall.

"People keep asking me questions," he said. "At shoots and stuff. They don't know about the soulmate mark thing, but they just keep asking- stuff. I don't know." He didn't mention that the things they ask are as predatory as they are possessive- while the photographers and makeup artists love that his mark is so 'hidden', less work for them, the models he sometimes works with love to drape themselves around him, murmuring saccharine words into his ears until he's dripping in them. _They say that the more hidden the mark, the closer the bond, but there's no harm in experimenting. You needn't ever tell her. Or whoever you've got at the moment. No need to tell._

"Then just tell them that you're dating me," Chloe snapped. "Honestly, Adrien, you're useless."

"No- that's not it. Chloe, if I really don't have a soulmate, what does this have for you? You can't stay with me forever, you've got someone waiting for you-" Chloe's skin flushed pink and she touches her shoulder, where _I'm so sorry about last night_ is covered by a yellow sleeve. "All I'm saying is, maybe we should cut whatever this is off before it goes too far."

"Are you breaking up with me?" Chloe demanded.

"No!" His face felt hot and cold at the same time. "We're not dating, Chloe, we're not even soulmates, that's what I'm trying to say!"

"Fuck you," Chloe said, and walked out of his room.

She wasn't at school the next day. Adrien was glad. He needed space to breathe- he was getting dizzy even just walking between classes. Nino picked up on it during the first couple of classes, but Adrien managed to deflect him by asking about the tinny music he could hear through his headphones. By lunch he just gave up and sat at the bench closest to the doors, closing his eyes in the cool shade. He was freezing- he was always cold these days, even in May- but it was better than the splitting headache the light was giving him.

"Hey," a voice said behind him, and he jumped. "Sorry," Nathaniel said. He hadn't even heard him approaching. "I just wanted to say thanks. For yesterday. I, uh, I really appreciate it."

"No problem," Adrien managed. "Are you okay? You seemed pretty..." He waved a hand vaguely, and Nathaniel shrugged.

"Let's just say it's an ongoing problem," he said, and laughed humourlessly.

"Want to talk about it?" Adrien offered. "Here, sit." He shoved his bag off the bench and offered a smile.

Nathaniel sat.

Adrien waited.

Nathaniel took a deep breath. "I only figured out what it really meant kind of recently," he said in a rush. "I'm- I'm gay."

"Okay," Adrien said. "So?"

"You're not surprised?"

Adrien laughed. "Nath, I don't want to reinforce stereotypes, but I did grow up in the fashion industry."

"Oh. Right. Um, anyway... it's probably easier to just show you." He turned in his seat a little to face Adrien and pushed his fringe aside.

 _You just said- but you're a guy_ was printed on his forehead in small, hesitant letters, and Nathaniel let his hair fall back as soon as Adrien nodded.

"Okay," he said, and then it hit him. "Oh. Nath, it might not be that bad."

"But- if he's shocked that I'm a guy-" Nathaniel's voice shook a little, and Adrien reached out to put a hand on his shoulder. "What if it's wrong?" he asked. "What if the person I'm supposed to love forever hates me just because-" He broke off abruptly, and covered his face with his hands.

"So what if it's wrong?" Adrien asked. "It doesn't have to be forever."

"Easy for you to say," Nathaniel bit out from behind his hands, fingers digging harshly into his scalp. "You've got Chloe." The bell rang, and he sighed and stood up. "Are you coming?" he asked, not unkindly.

"What have we got?"

"Gym."

Gym was dodgeball. Their class was mixed with another from their year, including Lee and his friends, and the other boy didn't seem to have forgiven Adrien for yesterday yet- he shoved him hard while they were changing, and when Adrien caught Nathaniel's eye across the room, he gave him a look that suggested he'd had the same treatment.

"Are you okay, dude?" Nino asked after the first round, once they'd both been taken out- Nino by a glancing shot to the knee, Adrien by a hit to the chest hard enough to knock the breath out of him. "You don't look so good. You're all..." He waved a hand at Adrien's face vaguely, and Adrien shrugged.

"I'm good. Just winded."

"You sure? Lee's kind of got it in for you, man. It's lucky that one didn't hit you in the face, he could have broken your nose."

"Everyone back in," the teacher called, starting a new game, and they took their places again. Adrien stayed closer to the back this time. He still hadn't caught his breath- if anything, his chest felt like it was getting tighter- and his limbs felt unnervingly heavy, making his movements slow and sluggish. Nathaniel hovered beside him, frowning. "You think they're going for us deliberately?" he asked.

"I'd say so," Adrien said. "Petty, huh? Look out," he added, shoving Nathaniel to the side. The ball missed them and rebounded off the wall with a _thwack_ which made them both wince. Adrien reached out to pick it up and got hit full in the face with the next ball, hard enough to knock him sprawling on his back.

"Out!" Lee's voice called from across the court.

"Are you okay?" Nathaniel demanded, dropping down beside him. Adrien blinked slowly. He felt like he was lying on a spinning surface, off-centre and off-balance.

"Is he okay?" Nino skidded to a halt beside them. "Time out!" he yelled. "Come on, dude, you're sitting this one out. You're too sick to get murdered out here. Go sit down. Nath, give him a hand, would you?" He helped Nathaniel pull Adrien to his feet and they gradually made their way back to the benches. The world hadn't stopped spinning yet- if anything, it was getting faster- and there were black spots in the corners of his vision. As Nathaniel pulled away, saying something he couldn't quite catch, he felt himself stumble. Someone's fingers suddenly dug into his arms, and someone was telling him to _sit down, sit down right now, Adrien_ -

He woke up lying on the floor in the middle of the gym hall. Everything was too bright. His head hurt.

"What happened?" he tried to say, and it came out as a slurred mumbling.

"You passed out," Nathaniel's voice said from above him, and then his face appeared. "And you kind of fell onto me, and- god, Adrien, you're not okay, are you?"

"What do you mean?" Adrien asked, a little more clearly."I'm fine. Just ill." He shifted a little, trying to sit up, and Nathaniel and Nino both moved at the same time, prodding him back to the floor.

"No," Nino said. "Stay. We've called an ambulance."

"An ambulance? Guys-"

"Shut up," Alya says- Adrien hadn't even realised she was there. "Everyone get out. Nino, Nath, you guys can stay. The rest of you, out." Although Adrien can't see her, he can hear the layers in her voice, anger churning with worry, all of it veiled by command. _That girl's going to go far_ , Adrien thought dizzily, and closed his eyes, trying to block out the sound of everyone's footsteps.

"Nope, don't close your eyes," Nino said immediately. "Stay with us, dude."

"I'm fine," Adrien said, forcing his eyes open again. "I'm just tired, that's all. Really."

"Oh, really," Alya said, quiet and sharp, like the words tasted bad in her mouth. "Oh-fucking-really, Adrien?"

"Alya-"

"No, Nino, I'm not leaving it alone, because this is exactly how it started with Marinette and none of us noticed that until it was too late. I'm not letting that happen again, I'm not-"

"Alya, calm down," Nino said softly. "This isn't helping."

"What happened to Marinette?" Adrien asked, the question suddenly the only clear thing in his mind as the doors opened and a crowd of people rushed in. He was checked over and lifted up and taken away before anyone else could say anything. People, strangers, were talking to him- _what's your name how old are you what day is it don't worry you're going to be fine_ \- but he barely heard them, all of it ringing in his ears like bells.

Apparently he was malnourished. Underweight, exhausted, don't forget the walking pneumonia. _Starving_ was the word one of the nurses used when she thought he couldn't hear, and _overworked_ was the one Nathalie used when she arrived, grim and furious on the phone to his father in the corner. "He collapsed at school, Gabriel- they're telling me he has pneumonia- _yes, this is an emergency."_

He stayed in the hospital overnight. His father was there for half an hour and spent most of it arguing with Nathalie outside, but he did sit beside his bed and say, "I'm sorry," in a voice that was considerably more honest than anything he'd heard in years, and then he left, and Nathalie had to go too, and Adrien was alone in a dim room with a needle in his arm and a crushing weight on his chest, the feeling- the knowledge- of his own inadequacy.

He didn't know how long it was before the door opened and someone came in. They didn't say anything, but they took a couple of steps towards his bed. "Adrien?" a stranger's voice said- a woman, tired but kind. Adrien didn't say anything, although he couldn't have said why; he just closed his eyes. "He's asleep," the woman whispered, presumably to someone outside. "Good thing, too. He looks like he needs it." There was a rustling sound as something was set down on the table beside his bed, and then someone's hand was gently brushing his hair back from his face. "Poor boy," the stranger whispered. She kept smoothing his hair, the sensation oddly soothing. Adrien drifted off to sleep for real without realising, and when he woke up, she was gone. It wasn't until Nathalie arrived in the morning and asked where _that_ had come from that he looked to his left and saw a neatly wrapped package sitting on the table.

"I don't know," he said, mostly honest. He opened it with clumsy fingers, and a handful of small, delicate macarons fell into his lap.

He looked up to see Nathalie biting her lip, an uncharacteristically gentle look on her face. "Your father and I have been talking," she said. "We're going to have to make some changes, Adrien. This- all of this- it can't go on."

"I know," Adrien said. "But-"

"We'll sort things out once you've recovered," she continued. "That's probably easiest. You need to rest." Part of Adrien wanted to snap out _no kidding_ , but he kept quiet. "You should be able to come home in a couple of days, but there's going to be a lot of checking up to do, making sure you're eating properly, not overworking- being overworked. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Adrien said. "I'm sorry."

"No!" He had never thought such an uncontrolled sound could come from Nathalie, Nathalie who had his entire life available at the tap of a button, who carried his world in a tablet and kept it so meticulously organised he couldn't remember a day without her. "No, Adrien, it's not your fault. I- I should have said something sooner." She was angry, Adrien realised, and maybe she had been for a long time, but she'd been covering it up, drowning it out with precise, efficient care and no margin for emotion to break. "I'll not forgive myself," she said, more quietly. "I won't."

"Nathalie-"

She stood up, preparing to leave. "Your friends are waiting outside," she said crisply. "They have been since ten o'clock. Do you want to see them?"

Adrien said yes almost without thinking- _friends_ , his brain echoed- and less than quarter of an hour later, there was a shy knock at the door and Nino, Alya and Nathaniel edged in.

"Hi," Adrien said, waving with the arm that didn't have a needle stuck in it.

"Hey," Nino said first, echoed by the other two. "Uh, how are you feeling, dude?"

Adrien thought about it. "Tired," he decided. "Really tired."

"No wonder," Alya said. "Adrien, what happened to you?"

Adrien paused, trying to figure out how much he could say. "A mixture of things," he tried. "Um, pneumonia's one of the big ones, but that's fine, I just need antibiotics and stuff. As for the rest..." He trailed off, twisting his hands in the hospital blankets while his friends exchanged worried glances; he heard Nino muttering _isn't pneumonia really serious_ and had to bite back a smile.

"You can tell us if you want," Nathaniel said. "But only if you want to. You don't have to."

Adrien sighed. "I don't really know where to start," he said hopelessly. "I just... I started modelling when I was pretty young, so there was always a lot of stuff about how I ate and how I looked, and when I got my first growth spurt everyone started paying a lot more attention to stuff, and it's just always been like that. And then I started at school and all my shoots had to be after school or at weekends, and I didn't have time for homework unless I missed meals, and then I just didn't have _time_..." His voice juddered and broke, and Nathaniel glanced around nervously before leaning down and putting an arm around his shoulders, squeezing gently.

"We should have noticed," Alya said crisply, lips white with fury. "I mean, we're in your classes, we see you every day."

"We didn't," Nino said. "Not really. He was always with Chloe," he added, at Alya's questioning glance.

"Chloe," Nathaniel echoed, pulling away from Adrien's side, the loss of contact like a cold breeze.

"Chloe. Of course. Hey, where is she, anyway?" Alya asked, glancing round as if the other girl might be hiding behind the IV stand. "I would have expected her to have refused to have left your side. Gone home for her beauty sleep, has she?"

Adrien squirmed. "Not exactly," he said. "We had a fight, I think."

"You think?" Nino said, at the same time as Alya said, "That's fine, all couples fight."

Nathaniel just studied his face for a few seconds and then said, "But it's not fine, is it?" like he already knew.

"You think you broke up?" Nino asked.

"Not exactly," Adrien said, and thought _to hell with it all_. "She isn't my soulmate. What it says on her shoulder- that's for someone else. Not me."

There was a shocked silence that felt like it lasted for years, broken by someone's footsteps in the hallway outside and Nathaniel's sudden, sharp inhale, like he'd forgotten how to breathe.

"That lying bitch," Alya said, and again, slower, spitting out the words. "That. Lying. Bitch. She was using you, Adrien, do you get it? Trying to turn you into a status symbol- a trophy."

"No," Adrien said, although something inside him knew she was right, "No, she was trying to protect me-"

"Protect you from _what_?" Nino demanded. "What was she trying to stop?"

Nathaniel was looking at him again, reading his face with an artist's eye and an inscrutable expression. "What happened to me the other day," he said. "Or something like it. Is that right?" His voice caught, the slightest crack at the end of the question, and Adrien flinched despite himself.

"I don't know," he said. "It's- it's not the same, Nath, but I don't know anymore." Shame was rising inside him, hot and bitter and sharp in his throat. "She told me not to let myself be taken advantage of. Because..." He looked at his hands as if he was seeing them for the first time, bones and veins standing out like faultlines on the clear, blank skin. "I don't have a mark," he said. "At all. And she said it was unusual, that people would... I don't know what, but it was bad and she was trying to help me. I think she just got a bit carried away." It sounded weak even in his ears, because Chloe had never tried to help in her life, not since she was eight years old and disappointed that her soulmate wasn't who she wanted.

She got what she wanted anyway- people like her always did.

"No, she didn't," Nino said. "It's your life, Adrien. You get to do what you want with it."

"And, for the record, I reckon a lot of people don't have soulmate marks," Alya added. "Yeah, it can mean that you don't have a soulmate- and what's that even supposed to mean anyway- but it's only the first thing they say to you. What if they say nothing at all? Adrien-" She caught herself with a jolt, closing her mouth like Nathalie did sometimes, way back when Adrien still asked questions about his mother.

"No," Adrien said, surprised at how desperate he sounded. "What were you going to say?"

There was a silence, crisp and opaque as newly-fallen snow. Alya shook her head, hair shifting on her shoulders. "Just... what if they didn't speak?" she said quietly. Nino stiffened and glanced at her; Nathaniel gasped, a soft _oh._

Nino swallowed. "Like... I mean-"

"Do you know someone else who doesn't have a mark?" Adrien asked. His voice seemed to have been sucked dry by the room's sudden tension, and the question came out as a croak.

Alya nodded. "Yeah," she said.

"Who?" Adrien asked, already half-knowing the answer.

"Marinette?" Nathaniel said it as a question, Nino echoed it like a prayer, and Alya just nodded.

"Marinette."


End file.
